𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | +𝟏𝟖

𝐗𝐈𝐗

—

I looked over my shoulder and watched as Clay and Griffin wrestled, practicing without weapons as Clay sent Griffin to the floor, landing on his back. My eyes halted at the shirtless view of Clay, his displayed chest and abs glistening in sweat. He held out a hand and helped Griffin back up. "Valentina?"

I turned back around at Simon's voice, "Hm?"

"Should I do it again? Or—" He asked.

"Yes, try it again." He had shot the target about six times now, along with a few tips in between. I watched as he pulled the trigger back once more and hit the centre of its chest. I grinned as he turned to me with a wide smile.

"Alright, alright," I heard Clay speak. I turned around once more to see Griffin pinning him to the floor, not letting loose. He grinned and let go of his wrists to stand as Clay stood back up, turning to Simon and I. "You two, no more for today. We'll train more tomorrow."

I watched out of my peripheral vision as Simon put away the weapon, though unable to fully take my eyes away from Clay.

A bit of his hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat, his chest slightly heaving as his abs glistened, begging to be touched. Lifting my gaze to his eyes, I caught a knowing smirk flash against his lips. "I'm going to go take a shower," he informed us. "So don't come to me if you need anything."

He walked passed me with a small brush of his arm against mine. Taking his recent statement as an invitation, I followed him. He didn't care to look back to see if I were there as he continued to make his way upstairs.

He opened his bedroom door and I slipped in after him, shutting the door behind me with a click. He turned his head to me before I was moving passed him and into his bathroom.

I heard his distanced footsteps approach the door as I turned the shower on, only for the silence in the bathroom to be broken by the pouring water that echoed between the walls. "What do you need, Valentina?" Clay asked from behind me. I looked over my shoulder, seeing him stood at the doorframe as he leaned against it.

"I want to join you," I peeled off my shirt, leaving me stood in shorts and a bra. I reached behind me, watching as his eyes stayed on mine. Unclipping my bra, I let it fall from my arms and onto the floor.

"You're still hurt." He pointed out, his voice low, though deep and full of desire.

"I can shower with the bandages," I replied, my hands lowering to the waistband of my shorts. "And they don't hurt as much anymore." I pushed the shorts off my hips, letting them slide down the smooth skin of my legs. He didn't care to look down, not yet getting a glimpse of my body covered by just the thin fabric of my panties.

"You haven't taught me anything yet," I mentioned, slowly hooking my thumbs into the sides of my panties. "Or taken me to that room."

"Because you're hurt." He repeated. I shook my head in denial. The wounds were shallow and thin, easily healing after a few days.